


Fatherly Advice

by Seasons_in_DL



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Physical Abuse, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 22:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16880436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasons_in_DL/pseuds/Seasons_in_DL
Summary: Dark smut fic based onLaito’s Maniac 7 chapterin the first game. Warnings for implied everything, strong language, Laito being Laito, abuse, abduction, and general Sakamaki horribleness. Later chapters get even worse.





	1. Chapter 1

Komori Seiji was a deeply pious man. The few parishioners who came to his tiny church would never have described him as especially demonstrative or vehement in his faith. They'd have been astonished at the depth of his conviction, and probably horrified at the lengths he would go to uphold it. They'd seen only what he wanted them to see: a gentle widower who'd come to his vocation later in life, following the death of a spouse -- which explained how a Catholic priest came to have a little daughter in tow.  


The fight had aged him well beyond his years. He was not yet sixty, but could have passed for a man of seventy or more. Even if they'd known the younger Seiji, it would have been difficult for them to recognize the demon-hunter, the vampire killer, under that wizened flesh. Once he'd been Komori the the firebrand, dealing out God's wrath upon the tainted and unnatural forces of evil, smiting the undead in the name of his Lord. They'd called him the Burning Sword, the demons had. They'd feared him, and with good reason.  


Yes, Seiji was a pious man, and decades spent battling the worst that Hell could vomit out had not shaken that faith.

It shook now. It trembled, just as his hand trembled. Just as his voice trembled, rage and terror shaking it like a gale. "If you've hurt her -- if you've hurt my daughter --"

* * *

Few people outside the Church had heard the rumours that demons were haunting this isolated hermitage. Fewer still knew that a hunter had been sent to investigate. For this reason, Father Komori was startled when his phone rang. The call had come in the middle of the night, not to the conventional cellphone he kept for mundane transactions (it wouldn't work this far up in the Pyrenees anyway) but to the satellite phone provided for emergencies and Church business. "Michael," he'd answered tersely. It was the name he'd taken at his confirmation; now it served him in the office of a codename among his fellow demon-hunters. 

Instead of a string of crisply-delivered instructions from a handler or a messenger, the answer was a faint sob. He did not quite believe he'd heard it. "Hello?" he said, uncertainly. 

The sobbing came again; then a girl's voice, wretched with misery and fear. "Papa? Papa, can you hear me?"

" _Yui!_ " 

"I'm scared, Papa. You sent me away. You sent me to this terrible place... with these terrible men... Papa, I'm so alone..."

"Yui -- dear God..! But they swore to me... they told me you'd be safe, that you'd have no contact with -- Where are you? Are you at the mansion?"

The only answer was more distant tears.

"I can tell them to send help. I won't leave you alone with those devils, those -- "

"Now, Papa," And somehow the voice was changing, transforming smoothly from that of a terrified child-woman to a young man's tones, louche and brimming with confident glee. "Is that any way to talk about your future in-laws? You _are_ the father of our latest sacrificial bride, after all. Nfu~!"

"Who -- who are you?" Seiji demanded.

"Sakamaki Laito," purred the speaker. " _Yoroshiku ne_ , Papa-san."

"One of _Karlheinz_ ' get?" spat the priest. "You can't possibly have my daughter. She was supposed to be under your father's protection, not a plaything for his whelps! "

"My _father_... ah, well, my father's not the most reliable chap. Changeable, you might call him. Flighty, even. He certainly doesn’t seem to have provided much protection. Poor little lamb, he had her delivered right to our _door._ Just. Like. Takeout." The man on the other end of the phone tittered.

“I don’t believe you’ve so much as set eyes on her.”  


"Oh, I’ve set more than my _eyes_ on her. Cute little blonde thing. Rather arresting lavender eyes. Five foot one, five foot two... probably less than one hundred pounds soaking wet... _Blood. Type. O.”_ The caller smacked his lips _. “_ Sound about right?"

"Anyone could find out those things," scoffed the priest.

"True... how about something more personal, then? Carries around the rosary you gave her as a child... not much up top... small white scar on her chest... _dearest_ little freckle next to her navel... definitely a _nat_ -ur-al _blonde_ ,nfu~! Want me to go on? "

"What have you done to her, you monster?"

"Done? Oh, not very much. Not yet. I had her strip for me, the first night... just to satisfy my curiosity... but since then, I'd say I've been a perfect _gentleman_. The _model_ of restraint. Most of the time." The voice became more eager. "Of course, I have all sorts of treats planned for her... but I like to take my time over these things, you know? I want to make her last. A delicious little morsel like that doesn't come along every day."

"You demon-born filth, you let her go immediately! Immediately, do you hear? Or I'll --"

" ** _You'll do nothing_**." 

The voice changed again, raising in volume but dropping in pitch. It froze Seiji's blood. All affectation was suddenly gone, and he was listening to the creature beneath: malicious, powerful, and imbued with centuries of cunning. "You couldn't protect her if you were standing under this very roof, and you certainly can't do anything from whatever miserable mountain shack the Church have stuffed you in. So you'll do what I tell you, when I tell you, or your daughter will pay for it. **_And she'll pay dearly_**."

With a soul-crushing wave of horror, Father Komori realized the man -- the vampire -- was right. There was nothing he could do but obey the creature, find out how to placate it until the Church could step in.

"What do you want?" he asked brokenly.

"Aww, don't sound so despairing! Nothing much, nothing beyond your modest means. No... all I want... is a little chat. You see -- " the voice took on an exaggerated tone of maudlin self-pity -- "I never had what you'd call a proper upbringing. That fellow, you know -- off on who-knows-what business all the time, never around to keep his growing sons on the straight and narrow. Parental guidance, that's what I've lacked. All I want from you, Papa dear, is a little fatherly advice."

"Advice regarding what?"

"Regarding the bride, Father. You see, there's something different about her. Something... special. Ever since she came to the house, I've been -- well, never mind that."

"Different? Special? I don't know what you mean. She's just a girl, an ordinary young girl."

"Now, Father. _Papa_.  Don't toy with me. The church doesn't give ordinary girls to their top demon-hunters to raise, even if you are past it. Don't bother shooting me that line about how you lost your darling wife and turned to the Priesthood in your grief, because we both know that's horseshit. And don't try to tell me you knocked up some floozy, either; you're far too pious for that. No, she's no spawn of yours," mused the vampire. "I want to know where the Church found her, and why they thought she needed the Burning Sword to keep an eye on her. **_Spill_**."

"It was -- well, some of the other hunters found her. The Church authorities told me her parents died in a demon attack -- "

"Oh? That doesn't sound terribly ordinary to me."

"But they were! They were just ordinary people, not demons or warriors. Collateral damage. The Church placed her with me in case the attackers came after her. Said the demons might decide to wipe her out before she got old enough to come looking for payback. But Yui... she doesn't know any of that. She doesn't even know she's adopted. She thinks she's my child. I raised her... as my own child..." 

"You know, I'm disappointed. Truly. It's almost as if you don't care at all. Come on, Papa. A young girl, all on her own in a houseful of monsters. Think of all the unpleasant things that could happen to her. Just think! _I know I am.._."

"Damn you, it's the truth! That's all I know!"

"Maybe... maybe. We-e-e-ell, I'm a generous man. I think I could give you the benefit of the doubt there. But mightn't there be someone else who did know more? And mightn't you be able to help out a chum by asking around, having a few words in a few ears? I mean, a man with your connections -- well, such a man might find out almost anything. Given the proper motivation. Tell you what, I'll give you a little time to think about it. Hopefully there won't be _too_ many developments here by the time I get back to you."

"But I can't just --"

" _Bai bai,_ Papa."

The connection was cut. **  
**

"If you've hurt her -- if you've hurt my daughter -- I swear I'll --"

Empty words spoken to dead phone. He'd do what? The monster was right; Yui was thousands of miles away, and what was he now but a sick old man? 

Alone in his room in the hermitage, Father Komori screamed.  


* * *


	2. Fatherly Advice (pt 2)

Through hollow days and sleepless nights, Father Komori did as he had been bidden and tried to scare up information on Yui's past. One of the first people to respond to his enquires was his bishop. Father Komori experienced a brief surge of optimism, but the news from the church was not good. As compassionately as possible, the bishop confirmed Seiji's worst fears: Komori Yui had indeed been chosen as a bride and sent to live among Karlheinz' sons. He was not given leave to return to Japan just yet, but he was able to quit the allegedly demon-haunted hermitage in the mountains and stay in the nearest town for a while. That, at least, gave him access to a phone.

He rallied his contacts, called in every favour he could think of; he committed scores of breaches in protocol, ethics and basic good manners. This brought him into some conflict with his superiors, who would rather he'd accepted the situation quietly. Yui was the new sacrifice, and it would be better for Seiji if he thought on her as dead. It was regrettable, they said, but Father Komori had sent other girls to similar fates over the years; he knew how necessary it was to prevent worse bloodshed in the future. No, the church could not tell him "why Yui?", beyond the fact that the vampire king had selected her. Seiji was simply to accept the ruling of the Church, as they all must. 

His bishop had commiserated, attempting to offer comfort. As with the other brides, a special mass had been said for Yui when she was sent away; whatever became of her in the mansion, her salvation was assured. Father Komori was to be of good cheer. He would surely be reunited with Yui in Paradise. 

Seiji ached to rail at the man, but knew he couldn't afford to alienate a potential source of information. He thanked the bishop emotionlessly, and then went back to his researches. But the days passed without any new information coming to light. All he uncovered were the names of Yui's biological parents: Yoshida. Aki and Miyuki. One of the commonest surnames in Japan, and two of the commonest first names. They'd lived in a humdrum little town, done humdrum little office jobs -- and then died terrible deaths, for no good reason. Only their fate elevated them from mediocrity.

When the vampire's next call came, it jolted Father Komori out of a daze. He'd been pouring over selected pages gleaned from Yui's medical records, trying to find something hidden in there that would interest and thus placate his child's captor, but there was nothing he didn't already know. Somehow he already knew who was calling before he looked at the screen. The air in the room underwent a distinct change; there seemed to be a kind of fragrance, heavy and sweet but corrupted. It was as if the man -- no, the monster -- carried such a powerful aura of evil that it could be felt even over radio waves. 

If the creature's calls even used radio waves. Did he even require a phone, or was that just another prop?

He thumbed the screen and put the phone to his ear. "Sakamaki Laito," he said, tonelessly. 

" _Hai hai!_ Any more fatherly wisdom to bestow upon me, hmm?"

"Yes! Yes! I found --" he swallowed dryly. "I found their names. Her parents."

"Oh~? Now that sounds promising. Tell. Me. _Everything_."

Father Komori told him. It didn't take long. The pregnant pause following the information seemed to take longer.

"We-e-e-ll..." purred the creature on the other end of the line, "I have to admit, it's not _quite_ what I was hoping for. No, I was looking for something much more _substantial_. Anything else you'd like to share with your daughter's doting betrothed?"

"I found..." Seiji scraped his dry throat. "That is... medical records. I have her medical information from childhood."

"Ah, that _does_ sound more hopeful. I'm all ears, Komori-san. Do tell."

"Uh... well, as an infant, she required heart surgery..."

"And?"

"And... well, the surgeon involved has retired and I couldn't reach him, but --"

"Really." The monster's voice was flat and dry. "Come now, Father. This is hardly news. She told me as much herself when I quizzed her over the scar. So the only new information you've provided me with is that relating to the late, lamented Mr and Mrs Collateral Damage. Not much to go on, mmm? You've had, what, a week and a half? I would have thought a seasoned holy warrior such as your good self would have known all kinds of _in-ter-esting_ people with all kinds of _in-ter-esting_ stories. I'm a little disappointed in you, Papa~"

"I've been doing everything I can. There just isn't --"

" _Ma, ma!_ No need to panic, Komori-san. Perhaps you'll be able to do a little better when you have _my_ information to put with yours. You see, just last night, I discovered something very interesting about my prospective bride."

"Go on."

"In a moment. First, I have a question. It's very important, so be sure to answer honestly. Our little lamb, our dear Yui-chan: Would you say that you love her, Komori-san? Does Papa _love_ his little girl?"

"Love her? Of course I love her. She might not be my blood, but she's my daughter. I love her more than life itself. What are you asking me for?"

"Just curious. Well, anyway, to return to my original topic: I was taking the air, you know, enjoying that lovely bright full moon -- so very big and bright last night, it was quite _magical! -- and little Yui-chan happened to surprise me."

Seiji stiffened. The creature's voice took on a gloating tone.

"You really should have taught her not to eavesdrop, Papa. It's a dreadful habit. I was forced to show her the error of her ways, alas. I don't like nasty surprises." 

"What... what did you..."

"You should have seen her _face_ when she felt my fingers on her throat. Those pretty eyes got so wide, so wet. She's precious when she's afraid, isn't she? Even more lovely when she's hurting. It's lucky for her that I'm not interested in torturing little girls." Laito's voice sank to an intimate whisper. "When they cry... and _scream_... why, I hardly notice at all!" 

Laughter bubbled out of the handset, crazed and crowing. Finally the vampire mastered himself enough to speak.

"I was good enough to let her decide on her own punishment. I offered her a choice. I did suggest that she could make restitution by giving up her innocence to me right there, under the moon... Tell me, is it true she's really been _saving_ herself for _marriage_? Nfu~! That's so _cute_."

"You -- devil --"

"Or she could simply allow me to feed on her blood. She chose the latter, rather to my disappointment. Did I mention when we last spoke that she hadn't been tasted yet? I don't recall. It's immaterial now, since that's no longer the case."

Seiji found himself unable to breathe. His whole body felt frozen with horror. The weather-beaten skin of his knuckles whitened visibly as he clutched the phone.

"Ahhhh~! She was so _delicious_ , your little lamb. And I was so _very_ thirsty. You know how the full moon takes us, don't you? Oh, don't fret so. I managed to contain myself. She's perfectly well; and still _intact_ , in other important respects."

Seiji coughed out something incomprehensible. The vampire continued his monologue as if he'd heard nothing.

"I admit, I was tempted to go a little further. She was so very _sensitive_ , Papa. So very, _very_ responsive. In fact, I'd say it ended up being more of a reward than a punishment." That sickening giggle again. 

"Most girls learn to enjoy being bled by us, of course, but at first -- well, just like that other first time, it can be extremely painful. _Agonizing_ , even. And I certainly wasn't trying to be gentle. But she... well, she definitely seemed to be in pain, no doubt about it... but at the same time... Did you know, Father, that when a mortal responds to us, physically I mean, the taste of their blood becomes sweeter? And your Yui... well... she was almost _painfully_ sweet. I can't wait to see how she'll taste once she's really attuned to my kiss." There was a long, sensuous sigh.

"A~nyway, I noticed something quite interesting. You daughter... or rather, your daughter's blood... the flavour is rather familiar. Almost... nostalgic."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you already _know_ what I mean."

"And I keep telling you, I don't know anything!"

" **Oh, _don't_ you**.” The vampire’s voice dropped. “The Church's prize attack dog, the scourge of demonkind, the Burning Sword, can't tell me why the blood of your _perfectly normal_ daughter should just happen to **taste like _her_**?" The last sentence was spat out between clenched teeth, Laito’s voice falling into a growl.

"Her?" 

"Oh, don't give me that bewildered-old-man act. 'He-e-er?' Karlheinz' first wife. The original Bitch Queen from Hell. Cordelia. _Her_. My cursed _mother_! I thought I smelled her on the girl, but it wasn't until last night that I knew for sure. Their blood... Yui's not as _ripe_ as Mother was, but otherwise the taste is just the same. Why _is_ that, Father? Why _does_ the blood of a Catholic ingénue happen to taste like the ichor of a _demon Queen_?"

Father Komori struggled to compose himself. The creature was evidently unhinged. "Sakamaki-san," he said, attempting to hide his growing rage under a tone of formal politeness, "I truly, truly know of no connection between your late mother and my daughter. Your father may have fictioned a familial link between her and your house, but Cordelia --"

" _DON'T YOU DARE SAY HER NAME!_ " The wild shriek stunned the priest into silence. "I don't want to hear that name come out of your filthy mouth! It was the name of a Queen and you're not fit to speak it, you deceitful old _hypocrite_. You know something! You must do! You know something and you are going to tell me! _I'll make a bloody ruin of everything you've ever claimed to love!_ "

To his shock, Komori heard the vampire gasping like a mortal; almost sobbing. They didn't breath, he knew. Their lungs could draw in air for speech or to pass for human, but they had no physiological need for breath. In moments of high emotion, though, vampiric bodies seemed to forget that they were dead. Then they might pant, gasp or sigh like living people. It was a bad sign: Sakamaki Laito's fury was powerful and unfeigned. 

An instant later, however, and his rage seemed to have evaporated; the light, bantering tone was back as if it had never gone.

"She is really starting to intrigue me, I must admit. Such a fascinating little creature. You will help me now, won't you? It's not much to ask. Just one or two insights, some hint as to the little matter of her blood? Otherwise I'm afraid she might be facing rather _heavier_ punishments in future."

"Sakamaki-san..."

"There are so many more things I'd like to _do_ with her. I don't put a great deal of stock in chastity, as I'm sure you're aware, but taking a girl's first time can be a fascinating experience. There's nothing quite like teaching a nice girl how good it can feel to be _bad_. Oh, do stop spluttering; it's undignified. Ordinarily, if the woman's reluctant, I like to play the long game -- charm her, wait her out, let her come to me... it's so satisfying when the girl who slapped your face on New Year's Eve comes to you just _begging_ for it in June. But in this instance, I'm not sure I have all the time in the world."

The voice grew softer, almost conciliatory. "You see, Father, without knowing more about her nature, her history, I don't know what agenda she might have. I don't know who else might have an interest in her. I've no way of knowing what might transpire if I don't stake my claim to the Bride in a very clear and _personal_ way."

"You can't mean --"

"Shut up. I'm talking. You see, Father, while I can take virginity or leave it alone -- nfu~! -- there are others who might interpret her untouched state as leaving her up for grabs. Lesser demons looking to advance their position. Rival vampire factions. They've never made a play for any of our prospective brides before, but Yui is different, isn't she? If they knew something about her that I didn't, that would put me at a disadvantage. And even inside the mansion there are threats, possible challenges to my claim. You know something of my brothers, do you not? Of my full brothers... Well, Ayato is the most likely challenger, I suppose. Very hot-blooded lad, Ayato. Very _passionate_. And such an ego! I doubt he'd respond well to a refusal from her. Kanato probably wouldn't be interested in trying to seize the bride for himself, but he does get carried away at times. We wouldn't want little Yui to end up in his doll collection, now would we? Hmm? Then there's my half-siblings. Poor mad Subaru's not much of a threat, as long as she avoids his rages; such a _temper_ , dear, dear. The heir apparent prefers sleep to more amorous activities, but his little brother... Ahh, but didn't you have something to do with poor dear Beatrix-sama's departure from among us? You _know_ Reiji, don't you?"

Father Komori swallowed hard. Sakamaki Reiji. It had been half a lifetime since their ugly little transaction, but the man's garnet eyes and diabolical smirk still haunted his nightmares. He remembered one meeting in particular: the door to Reiji's rooms had been flung open before he could knock and a sobbing maid had fled past him, clutching her tattered blouse closed; he'd glimpsed blood-streaked slashes in the fabric as she ran away. Turning back to the door, he'd looked up into a triumphant grin and eyes gleaming with crazed satisfaction. The monster had still been holding his riding-crop; he'd played with it idly through the entirety of their interview. There’d been tiny flecks of blood on one lens of his glasses. Hungry glances toward the closed door told the priest that the frightened maid's respite was to be a temporary one.

Oh yes. He knew Reiji.

"I'm afraid his tastes are much the same as they were when Beatrix lived," Laito went on. "One might have hoped that her death would mellow him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. He's still quite _addicted_ to pain, Father Komori. Other people's, of course. (Well, mostly.) I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to fall into his hands, hmm?" 

He affected another theatrical sigh. "So you see, Papa, it's a matter of some urgency that I stake my claim on her. My preference, of course, would be to wait until she's ready; work on her till it's something she craves as much as I do. But she's such a stranger to her own desires... gentle persuasion might take longer than we have. Do you understand me? Ah, it seems that you do. That wheezing is most distasteful, by the way. One could argue that consent is rather moot in her situation, since she's under my complete control in any case. True consent requires a degree of personal agency she no longer possesses, so the use of force is neither here nor there. But it won't seem like an ethical quibble to _her_ , I assure you."

"Don't. Don't do this."

" _Believe_ me, Papa, I don't _want_ to do it. I want to make it all moonlight and roses for my little one. I want her to blush and thrill and cry out my name in _ec-sta-sy_. I don't want her first time to be something rough and squalid. It's you. _You're_ doing this, by withholding the information that I need."

"I told you, I don't have any information!"

" _Please_ , Father. Think how horrible it will be for the girl." There was a strange undercurrent to the creature's tone now; beneath the persuasive suaveness and the mockery underpinning it, Komori detected something almost like desperation. "Your daughter. The child you profess to _love_. She's so clean, so sweet. Imagine having that innocence ripped away by force, by someone she still thinks of as a demon to be loathed instead of a man to be desired. And all because her dear Papa threw her to the monsters. I'll be very sure she understands that part: how you gave her up and wouldn't lift a _finger_ to save her, even after I told you _exactly_ what I was going to do. Poor lamb... she might never recover."

"Damn you!"

"I'm reasonably certain that I'm as damned as I'm ever getting, Papa dear," sighed the vampire. "Understand this: the Bride is mine. This is _going_ to happen. You can't prevent it. But _how_ it happens -- whether it's an induction into bliss, or the worst trauma of her young life -- that's up to you. You can get a message to me via Church channels if you should chance to, aha, 'learn anything new'."

"Wait. Wait!"

"Time's up. _Bai bai_ , Papa dear. I'll be sure to give Yui-chan your _love_."

The line went dead.


	3. Fatherly Advice (pt 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (It gets darker. References to Laito's miserable backstory, including Richter and Cordelia's horrible treatment of him.)

_“Kyah!”_

Another dream? **  
**

I mean, I _do_ dream of her, my dear dead love, of course I do. But just lately it seems like every time I close my eyes, she's there: hair like a bouquet of whips, marmoreal white tits freezing my palms, lips sweetly bitter as memory... 

"Just lately". No, it's been since that girl got here. Girl... or whatever she is. 

Speaking of, I should probably track her down and make sure she isn't up to anything. Nobody's that innocent; and the way things have been going, I have more motivation than ever to keep tabs on our cute little bride.

 _My_ cute little bride. 

I close my eyes and feel about for her in the mansion. Her presence gets easier to detect with every night that passes. All of my many skills are burgeoning, as a matter of fact. I'm stronger, faster, more alive somehow, and it's all thanks to her oh-so-special blood. 

She's not in her room. I check that she's not with any of my brothers (they've all backed off somewhat; I suppose they know I'm not in a playful mood where she's concerned), then turn the inner eye on the common areas. Ah! The kitchen. Yes.

In the blink of an eye, I've joined her. She doesn't notice me. Well, she's not supposed to. I'm concealed behind one of my own glamours. I watch her for a while, but she's doing nothing more blameworthy (or interesting) than food prep and a little quiet snivelling. 

Tears again. What a sorry specimen she is. Anyone'd think she'd been ditched by her only family, beguiled into a house full of monsters, been taken prisoner, and given herself over to a lecher for protection. 

Wait! That's exactly what happened. Heh.

"Why are you holding that knife and sighing?" 

I surprise her. Nerves already a-twang, she jumps gratifyingly when I drop the glamour and speak. Her heart thuds so loud, as if it's apt to leap out of her chest. I laugh. "You're really weird," I tell her.

"Laito-kun!" she exclaims weakly. Doesn't even make a feint for me with the knife. How dull. 

"What's wrong? It's like someone's _drained_ you of all your _joi de vivre_." I can't resist a giggle at my own joke. 

"Oh, and who could have done that?" she ripostes bitterly.

"Heh. It's _to-_ tally me." I strike a melodramatic pose. "Ohh... my very _existence_ is such a _sin!_ I let Bitch-chan get involved with me; and now she's standing around and sighing, poor lovesick creature."

Time was when she'd have hotly denied the suggestion. Now she merely turns back to her vegetables with a weary mutter.

"Yeah. That's exactly it."

How disappointing. I'd hoped to bait her into some sort of angry-shamefaced response. She's so cute when she's pink with fury and embarrassment all at once. Wan and tight-lipped isn't nearly as stimulating. 

"Wait, what? You're just admitting it? Well, that's no fun. How dull... well, no matter." I perch on the edge of a nearby counter and watch her expectantly. She's bound to open up a little. She has no-one else to unburden herself to, after all.

She'll hate herself for it, but still she'll cleave to me. Her enemy.

Sure enough, down she breaks.

"I was... I was just thinking about Papa."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course. Dear saintly Papa. If I could only break her of that fixation, the idea that Dear Papa is going to come and take her away from all this, she'd be much easier to win over. He's nothing but an annoying psychic obstacle between me and _my_ Bitch-chan.  
  
I'm starting to thoroughly resent the fellow. Even phoning him up at night and telling him what I'd like to do to his baby girl doesn't relieve my feelings.

"Ahhh," I say, hiding my annoyance. "Your Papa. You're not worrying about _him_ , are you?"

"Of course I am!" she snaps back.

"Let me tell you something about your dear Papa," I begin. "Pay attention, because --" I'm cut off by a sudden sound from elsewhere in the house. It's the front door. I feel... I smell... 

Oh, no… 

No, no, no, _NO!_

"What?" she says.

"That smell... it's _him_ ," I mutter. 

"Laito-kun, who --" I silence her with a hand over her mouth. He can't hear her. He mustn't know she's here! She struggles, muffled sounds of annoyance escaping from under my palm.

"Shhh!" I hiss. I try to keep my voice even. "Bitch-chan, be quiet now. Okay? Don't make a sound till I tell you." She's not getting it. I press down harder. "If you open your mouth, I guarantee you'll _never see your Papa again_."

Stillness. Either the words or the tone have frozen her in place; she knows me well enough now to sense when I mean business. I shove her into a corner and bring down the strongest glamour that I can over her. If she moves too much or decides to speak out loud, it's all up, but as long as she stays still... it might be enough.

Might.

I step away from her and try to look calm. I feel anything but. That man. That _man!_ He wants her -- that's the only reason for him to be here. I knew there was something about her --  something strange -- something different. What does he know that I don't? What does _she_ know? 

The door swings open and in he comes. Richter. 

Kill. I'll kill him. 

Can't kill him. Too strong. 

He strolls into the kitchen, taking his time. So coolly arrogant; you'd think he owned the place. Just like old times.

"Oh," he says, by way of greeting. "It's you."

Same thing he used to say to me in the dungeons.

"Hoho. Uncle, uncle!" I reply. "It's been too long." He glares down his nose at me, perfect nostrils flaring. I itch to break it. He's begging for a fist in the face. His eyes scan the room, but they slide right over Bitch-chan as if she isn't there. Either he's a terribly good actor, or my glamour is holding. 

"Her scent. It's here," he says; and for a second, I think he's talking about the girl. Then I realize he means my dear dead one's fragrance. They're certainly similar; although Bitch-chan's taste and smell don't have the fullness, the  _ripeness_ of that woman's, the resemblance is compelling. I'd very much like to know why that is, but now is not the time to dwell on it. Instead I simply quirk a brow at him, as if I have no idea what he's on about.

This does not fool Richter.

"Laito, you worm..." he sneers.

"Richter-sama, what _ever_ is the matter?" I ask deprecatingly.

His voice is a growl.  "Just what do you think you’re trying to hide?"

The attack comes almost without warning. His hands, cold and strong, grip my flesh, just as they did all those times when I strove with him as a youngster. Like then, I try and fail to bite back the shriek of pain; unlike then, I'm able to writhe free of his grasp. I'm... stronger? I'm stronger! From his look of baffled rage, he wasn't expecting it either. 

I'm sorely tempted to press the fight. Hurt the bastard. Bring him down. Pay him out for everything he's done, everything he's taken. But I'm not that strong yet; if I attack now, I could lose everything. I compose myself. When I speak, my voice is deadly calm -- quite the opposite of my emotions. "Uncle, uncle. How rude! Who do you imagine you're talking to?"

"Just answer the question," Richter demands. " What are you doing? What are you hiding from me?"

"Who, me?" I reply, all innocence. "I’d never hide _anything_ from _you_. Dear uncle --" I affect a tone of familial concern "-- are you going senile in your advancing years? I’m so worried!" Well, I can't be too polite. He'd suspect something. With a sudden access of inspiration, I add: "As for what I’m doing -- well, if you look around, you might notice that this is a kitchen. And what do people do in kitchens? Here’s a hint: Look over there." 

I throw out another glamour, this one aimed at one of the kitchen counter-tops. The dead rat looks terribly lifelike -- well, deathlike -- well, real. If I do say so myself as shouldn't. But then pride is the very least of my sins...

"A rat?"

"Oh, it’s so hard to find fresh food these days!" I assume a tone of mock despair. "Whenever you go back to Eastern Europe, the hunters chase us like vermin!  If we don’t drink rats, we’ll starve… oh, Uncle! How _could_ you do this to us?"

He smirks. "You’re so hungry you’ll eat rodents. Heh... If my elder brother only knew. He’d tear you to shreds."

Well, that did it. Insults are one thing but bringing up _that person_  is simply poor taste. "But it would also be a disaster if Father knew some of the things you did," I pointed out. "Oh, I remember." I closed my eyes and treated him to a lascivious moan, much like the ones I used to serenade him with during his assignations with that woman. 

He gets the message. If the great Karlheinz ever learns about that little fling, Richter is finished and he knows it. "Hmph. Very well. I won’t rat you out, if you'll pardon the play on words. I’ll pretend you were just cooking. I’ll spare you this once." 

He turns, as if to go; for a second, I feel a surge of relief. It's a ruse, however. He reverses course and starts talking again. "By the way..."

Coming on the heels of that relief, the spike of rage in my chest is unreal. My vision turns red. _Shut up. Shut up. Shut up, you slimy little toad of a man. Hell, if I could only kill you!_  What is he saying? Something about the Church...

"I heard the Church sent over a lovely Sacrificial Bride."

There's no point saying I hadn't seen her, so I think up another lie. "Oh, yes," I respond smoothly. "She made such a nice plaything for my dear brothers. Probably dead in the dungeons as we speak."

An ugly triumphant look creeps over Richter's face. "What a pathetic lie," he gloats. "None of you were allowed to kill her! She was hand-picked by the man who rules us all."

I laugh lightly. "But we’ve never taken care of a girl all by ourselves before. We boys simply didn’t know how to treat her well."

He ignores my comment. "Our human 'friends' couldn’t have got their hands on her," he says. "Therefore, this girl – the Vessel – must still be here with you."

Vessel? What does he mean, Vessel? What is he talking about? I want to seize him by the throat and force him to tell me; but that's still beyond my strength. All I can do is double down on my last lie. 

"So what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. This all sounds like family politics, and you know I don’t give a hoot for family politics. I don’t even consider us a real family."

Richter, ever the opportunist, sees a chance to twist his knife. "If _she_ could hear you say that, she would cry. Are you saying you’d want to make her cry?"

This, at least, gives me an excuse to drop my heavy mask a little. He expects hurt and anger, so that's what I show him. "Don’t try to guilt-trip me! In the end, Ayato was the one who made her scream."

He gazes at me for a long moment, utterly arrogant, utterly impossible to deter. Then all of a sudden the struggle seems to bore him. Trying to catch me in a lie is more effort than he can be bothered to put forth. Ugh, Richter and his vaunted ennui. How dull. "I see how it is. I will go and  interrogate the others. Stay there -- and enjoy your little rat."

I gave him my sweetest smile. "Dear uncle, I hope you never come back here again."

Richter scoffs. "Hah. I assure you, I will never come here again, not even if you _begged_ me to save your life." Fat chance of that, Uncle dear. He stalks towards the door, then does the about-face trick again. "But Laito, the scent of the rat you’re hoarding… it does smell exactly like her…"

My blood runs cold. A game. It's all been one of Richter's twisted little games. He's older than me, stronger -- of course his eyes could pierce my magic. He saw Bitch-chan cringing in the corner, saw that the rat was an illusion -- all this time, he's been stringing me along, watching me sweat... 

I brace myself for the final, futile struggle. I know I can't stop him taking her, can't stop him ending my life, but I intend to sell both very dearly. Perhaps I can take one of those gloating red eyes before the end...

"No," Richter goes on. "The rat smells like her because it smells like you. You smell like a rat… I think it’s very fitting…" Laughing, he disappears.

I wait until I'm certain that he's gone. He hasn't simply gone to another room to pester one of the others; he's left the mansion altogether. I can't sense him anywhere in the house or the grounds. I'm breathing -- hah, we do breathe, when our blood is stirred -- but I force myself to breath slow. 

"That bastard." 

Who's speaking? 

"That _bastard!_ "

He's entirely correct, whoever he his. Evidently a fellow of wit and discernment.

Oh, it's me. 

"That bastard and me... we think too much alike. He was this close to catching us!" My nails are digging into my palms, almost without my volition. "That disgusting, abominable, ugly… The Bride has nothing to do with him! You’re none of his _business!_ You... _We’re_ none of his business…"

The room is trembling. Melting. Dark wet spots hit the floor. Water? 

"Laito…kun?"

I turn to look at her. The first time since he entered the room. I didn't dare look her way while he was here. Her face is bloodless, eyes big and teary; she's shaking. Trembling. Poor lamb, poor frightened lamb. But who is she afraid of? Him or me? 

So innocent. So innocent, but... but she smells, she tastes, like that bitch-queen from hell. She's the only Bride who's ever drawn his interest. Why? Why?

With a strangled yell of rage, I fly at her. I grip her narrow shoulders, digging my fingers into her flesh. She cringes. So she should. My face is wet with furious tears as I shake her like a doll, her head snapping back and forth on her slender neck. "You! What _are_ you?"

"Ahh! What are you doing?" She's terrified. Let her be terrified. Fear, pain, whatever it takes. 

"That bastard, that _bastard…_ what does he want with you? Tell me!" 

"I don’t know! Please, it hurts!"

She must know something, even if she doesn't know she knows. There's no more time for games. He could have taken her tonight. Taken her right out from under my nose... 

"It’s meant to hurt," I tell her venomously. "You know I can make it hurt _worse._ So _talk._ "

Suddenly I want her. Not just as food, prey; I want her _that_ way. More than ever before. And I think: If... if she's been with me... There is an old magic there, in that coupling. If we were a true mated pair, if I'd been with her as a man, as well as a vampire, maybe she wouldn't be... maybe he won't find it so easy to claim her. 

It could be ugly, what I'm contemplating. But not as ugly as letting him get to her. She's young, naive, a mortal; she doesn't know how filthy he is. He's worse than me. Far worse. Depraved even in his ennui. This is mercy, really. Imagine what he'd do to a girl like her. Would he be content to fill her belly with his spawn? Would he debauch her, take her in front of others, fuck _her_ in front of _their_ children? 

The thought fills me with murderous rage.

She sees something new in my face, something that terrifies her. "I don’t… I really don’t…" she dissolves into sobs. "I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know..."

I give a small laugh. "Playing dumb won’t save you. But… the night is still young... So I’ll interrogate you – in my bedroom." 

I drag her out of the kitchen by one arm. She snivels and pleads all the way down the hall. "Shut up," I advise her sagely. After that she just weeps silently, drizzling tears all the way upstairs and into my rooms. 

She has to know something. She has to. I _need_ her to know.

One way or the other, I'll make certain that whatever she knows can't harm her. Us. I mean me. 

Can't harm _me_.

She's nothing to me. Just a toy, just a… just my…

I can't stop crying.


	4. Fatherly Advice (pt 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Laito's Maniac 7 chapter from the green-eyed perv's POV. As always, much of the dialogue is cribbed from [Mimi’s translation.](http://diabolikloverstranslations.tumblr.com/post/90230745701/laito-route-maniac-07-english-translation)

Time is moving like treacle. My mind races; a thousand-thousand thoughts and images and plans rush through my head in the time it takes the mortal wench to blink. 

He'll kill her. 

Richter will get her away from here and he'll do what he did to all those other brides. He'll beat her and cut her and _do_ things to her, trying to break her like he did with the girls who tried to run away. And he'll kill her, because Richter is a crass, hamfisted fool who wouldn't know finesse if it bit his undersized _dick_ off.

He'll do all of those things again. Do them to _her_ , to _my_ Bitch-chan. 

Unless I do something first.

I drag her into the bathroom first. It's more force of habit than anything; I'm too furious and on edge to think about showering. That man. That man! No -- that beast, that filthy animal -- and he dares to call me vermin! Me! He's the rat! On second thoughts, he's more like a toad: a slimy, leering toad, squatting in hollows, licking its lips…

I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to dismiss the thought of him. Block his face out of my mind. 

I look at the girl. 

I've seen her body before, of course. I know every inch of her; I've done so many things with her that this could almost be called an afterthought. But she's still a virgin in the technical sense; and while the distinction scarcely matters to me, it probably matters to Richter. It matters to certain powers, forces that are older and stronger than Richter even dreams of being. There is magic in this.

"Strip," I tell her. 

She's foolish enough to protest. "Please... don't..."

For an instant, I think I'm going to lose it. Her refusal actually brings the red mist to my vision. She's talking back to me, denying me. This frail, scrawny little human chit, disobeying _ME_! 

But I contain myself. I learned long ago that if you want power over others, you must control their emotions; and to control the emotions of others, you must first control your own. Strategic displays of rage and passion are a useful tactic for manipulation, but If I'm not master of myself I'll never truly be master of anyone.

I stand closer; too close, looming over her. She hates and fears this, but a part of her responds to it as well. There's that buried core of her, that secret hunger; I can see it in the slight flush on her cheeks, smell it in her breath and sweat. "By now, you should’ve learned how to read a man’s mood," I tell her carefully, trying to moderate my tone. " _Look at me._ What do you think will happen if you disobey me now?" I run my hands over her shoulders, the fabric of her sweater soft under my fingers. Softness. Yes. suddenly I want that; I want softness, sweetness. I haven't had enough of it lately. "If you want me to be nice to you, you have to be nice to me." 

I glare down at her, taking my hands away. She closes her eyes.

"Now. _Strip_."

Her little heart is so loud in this room. It echoes off the tiles, almost taunting me. This close, with her emotions running this high, her thoughts reach me easily. Too bad it's all gibberish.

_Scary… help… no… this can’t be happening…_

Nothing incriminating; actually, it's reassuringly vapid. But that gibbering terror is nothing that couldn't be faked, with the right training. And he could have trained her, I realize, watching her pry off her shoes. There were plenty of times when she'd been alone. She could have been meeting him at school, in the grounds -- right here in the mansion while I've been sleeping. He might have been in her room; would I have picked up his scent over hers, over my brothers'? They could have been rutting together, laughing at me behind my back, plotting against me..! 

She peels off her lacy little socks. Her bare feet are awfully cute. 

She could have been with him.

Here am I, contemplating her defloration, and it might already be a done deal. 

No. She's still intact. I've played with her enough now to be certain of it. Why, only last night I got her into the Academy's music room and -- among other entertainments -- I ate her like a juicy little peach. I've nudged my tongue against her maidenhead -- not that the hymen proves anything one way or another, mortal superstitions notwithstanding. A girl can be the village bicycle and retain at least a partial barrier, or be as as pure as the driven snow and not have one at all. But her blood... her blood would have changed. It still tastes the same as it did when she arrived; perhaps a little sweeter and fuller now, after all the fun we've had together, but not the big, easily detectable change that comes after the first full sex. 

She gives a yelp, "Ah!", as her skirt falls to the floor. Very gratifying.

But…

What if her blood doesn't taste different because it was already changed before I tasted her?

What if he'd had her before she came to us? What if... 

No. No. There would have been some sign of it. She's been too shy, too obviously inexperienced.

I'm sure I'd know.

But would I?

He… his hands on her… his lips on those lips… 

No. _No._

She takes off her sweater. In her camisole and slip she pauses, shooting me a beseeching glance. I reach out and tug meaningfully at the slip. She gives a little gasp, "Oh…!" and removes that too.

"Yes. That’s right. Come on now, hurry up…" 

I hear her thoughts again. _…Can’t get away…the only thing left… is my top…_

That's right; the only thing left on is her camisole. Clumsily, she removes it; now she's down to her bra and pants. They hang a little more loosely than when she first got here -- she's been losing flesh. Probably my fault. I'm _such_ a dreadful creature. She gives me another of those pleading glances; I nod, letting her know that I expect her to keep going. 

She fumbles with the catch on her own bra, clumsy with anxiety -- or is it guilt? I gesture impatiently, which makes her even more nervous; I have to chuckle a little when she finally gives up and tugs it off over her head. Her white cotton briefs go next. Now she has nothing left but her folded arms. I grip her wrists and move them to her sides. They stay there when I take my hands away. I feel a sense of victory; it is so satisfying, finally having her all the way out of her clothes, standing naked in front of me. Trembling. Obedient. And here I am, still fully clad: I haven't even taken my hat off. How ungentlemanly. What a terrible imbalance of power. It's just _not fair._

Heh.

"Not bad, not bad at all." I laugh, looking her up and down. "But I can see why Ayato calls you 'titless'." Predictably, the arms come back up to protect everything she hasn't got. "Who said you could cover up?" I ask. She drops her arms again, letting me see her. "That’s better. So, what should we do now?"

It couldn't have been easy for her, baring all in front of me; but I'm still not ready to relent. I reach over and begin stroking her shoulders again. I pet her, moving my hands back and forth over the small bones, the smooth, girlish skin; then down to her chest. There isn't much to grab but I grab it anyway, enjoying her flinch. She tears up again. Some girls are very tender in that area, especially at certain times of the month; she seems to be one of them. Useful to know. There's pain, fear… but something else as well. Her body is responding to this, to me. She's such a perfect little masochist.

"Tell me, Bitch-chan… what do you want me to do to you? Should I lick you like I did before?" I squeeze harder. "Tell me how to _humiliate_ you. Or else I’ll -- hmm… I know." I lean in so that my lips are close to her left ear. "I’ll bite off your earlobe."

"What?" she shrieks, freezing in terror. She believes it! She takes me totally seriously. Oh, this is delicious. 

Well, I am sort of serious. If she's been with him, if she's been plotting my downfall with that disgusting toad of a person…

...let's face it, I probably _am_ going to bite off her ear. 

For starters. 

She smells so good. So sweet, so ripe.

Oh…

My arms slip around her. I pull my little naked Bitch-chan close; she's so soft in my arms, so hot and yielding. Her bare body just seems to fit against mine, as if she were occupying a gap I never knew was there. She's exactly what I need. "To tell you the truth," I murmur, "I was going to save you for later. The longer I waited to take you, the finer your flavor would be when I finally tasted you." A shiver runs through her. "But that man _shattered_ the last of my self-control. If I don’t do it now, I’ll fall _apart…_ " 

I tip her back a little; she gives a small "Ack!" of consternation as I press my lips to hers in a deep kiss. Her mouth is sweet and even hotter than her body; I moan, thinking about how it's going to feel when I'm finally inside of her.

But she still needs to be punished. 

"Now," I breathe. "Let’s start biting in a new place today…" She stiffens and shudders. "Where do you want it? Pick a spot." 

I know _exactly_ where I'd like to bite her: right on her plump little sex. But I want to work up to that. It's going to be even better once I make her beg me for it. For now, though, there has to be pain. More pain than ever, to make her seek the pleasure that offsets it.

And to soothe my furious heart before it grows spikes and cuts its way out of my chest.

"I don't want… any spot…" 

More denial, as expected. She can't bring herself to confess her true desires. Normally I find that cute -- trying to hide behind her words, when every pulse of her blood telegraphs her longing! -- but not tonight. I'm too brittle with rage. My fingers bite into her arms. Her "Ow!" Is gratifying.

I shall tear more sounds out of her.

"It doesn’t matter how much you resist me… Tonight, I’ll make sure you do everything I desire. Now, let me think…" I run my hands over her some more, considering. So many delicious possibilities. "You normally feel so _good_ when I bite you. The usual places aren’t _punishment_ enough… Aha!" 

I lean in close, murmuring into her left ear.   
  
_"I did say I’d bite off your ear…"_


	5. Fatherly Advice (pt 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unwanted phone call.

_"Papa~? Oh, Papa-san~?"  
_

_Seiji roused himself with a groan. The cellphone was already in his hand, resting on the pillow beside his ear. How had it got there? He'd left it on the desk when he'd fallen into bed._

_"She was **delicious** , Papa-san."_

_"What -- who --?"_

_But he already knew._

_There was a smug titter from the phone._

_"You don't recognize your own son-in-law, Papa? Aww. I'm hurt."_

_"What is it? What do you want?"_

_"I just called to give you some good news, father dear. Your little girl…"_

_"Yui? What about her? What news?"_

_"Ah… Your Yui-chan, Papa… she's become a woman."_

_"What..!"_

_"My woman, to be specific. My own sweet bride."_

_"What did you do to her, you monster? What did you do?"_

_Still giggling, Laito began to tell him._

* * *

I nip gently at Bitch-chan's left earlobe. She cringes in the most gratifying way and gives a short cry of fear; well, who could blame her? I had just offered to bite it off, after all. 

"…But that would be so pathetic," I muse aloud. "You’d look so pathetic..!" Such injuries can easily be regenerated with our blood -- especially once she's fully awakened as one of us -- but the sheer absurdity of such a disfigurement really would make her a pitiful specimen until everything grew back.  

I do want to do something new, though; and I've bitten her almost everywhere at this point. Neck. Lips. tongue. Chest. Toes. I've sunk into the marshmallow perfection of her little thighs more times than I can count... 

"Aha! I got it! I’ll bite the back of your ear!"

"The back of my ear?" she repeats, bewildered.

I can't help but chuckle. "That’s right," I confirm. "There’s a hollow in the back of the human ear, isn’t there? right down the line to the temples, very close to the _skull…_ " I caress the spot tenderly, feeling the bone beneath the velvet-soft skin and fine, silky hair. "There’s no flesh in the area, and such a tiny bit of skin... If a man bit you there, the pain would be excruciating…" I begin to laugh.

"No!" She struggles in my arms, starting to panic in good earnest. I've bitten her over the bone before, letting her experience the different sensations between skin supported by fat and muscle and skin over hard bone. I've bitten her cute little ears -- such fun to nibble and lick. She knows how sensitive they are.

She knows this will _hurt._

I rub it in, piquing her terror.

"Such thin, thin skin -- and so close to your head. It’ll be the finest of pleasures, mixed with the fiercest of pain – all waiting just for you…" 

The more I taunt her with it, the more in love with the idea I become. Yes; the pain, the terror; but the pleasure, too. The kind of joy that I am capable of inflicting. Pure agony, pure fear… I've never been a fan of purity. I like everything tainted: fear with lust, pain with ecstasy. 

Love with hate.

She's got her eyes screwed tightly shut. Her lips mouth a silent denial -- no no no -- and her mind is churning with terror, but I can still sense that hot hard pulse underneath it all. 

Did you know that a woman's natural juice is mostly brewed from blood? Blood plasma, specifically. As her red passion rushes to heat her core, it's forced out to moisten the flesh. We can smell it, you know. The more aroused she gets, the more heated we become. It's _delectable_. I can smell Bitch-chan's blood now, the sweet distilled fragrance of the plasma pooling between her legs. Her arousal, the closeness of her complete submission -- I can feel it, smell it, _taste_ it on the air. All of my senses are intoxicated, including that sixth sense that only immortals truly possess. 

That's the oldest canard among mortal men, isn't it -- "I know what you _really_ want!" -- but among us, it happens to be accurate. From the fragrance of her blood, from the echo of her thoughts, we really can tell the difference between actual revulsion and refusal for the sake of pride; when a girl is truly reluctant, and when she secretly wants us to keep the pressure on. When we say "your mouth says no but your body says yes", it's not a cheap sop for our scruples; it's the truth.

Sometimes.

Sometimes it's not, and we say it anyhow.

But her secret self is talking to me, inviting me into her, begging me to set it free. And even if it wasn't, I can no longer resist. That man… that _man_!

I've had enough. I drag my naked Bitch-chan through into my bedroom. She struggles weakly as I taunt her: "It’s not like there’s a brain inside that little head of yours to injure. Now… let the sound of my teeth against your bone ring through your skull!"

Her terror gets the better of her, and she begins screaming even before I bite down. The sound is painfully delicious; I drink her shrieks in along with her blood, wave after wave of gloriously poignant pleasure, almost like an orgasm. I can taste her agony, her fear, her _need_ , all of them feeding on each other, all of them deepening as I drink.  
  
"NO…! It hurts, it hurts… please stop! _Stop_!"

I pause to stoke her fear a little more. "If you don’t be quiet, I might really bite off your ear," I tell her. She freezes and starts trying -- futilely -- to hold in her screams. Now she can hear how I'm moaning with pleasure. "Oh… Mmm…" I sigh. Such bliss. And we've hardly even begun…

She's gasping and sobbing now.  "Stop... " she pleads. "No… no…"

" _Yes_ ," I tell her, deepening my bite. "Yes… mnn…"  

I can feel her blood beginning to heat up, just as it always does. She's still giving little cries of "No!" and "Stop!" Her voice is fainter now, but her thoughts are a din. _Hurts… hurts so much… can't move… skull… can’t see… everything… spinning… I feel sick….oh god… want to throw up…_

Perfect. There's no way she's throwing up a smokescreen now. She's a raw wire of pain and heat, almost out of her tiny mortal mind. I lick the wound closed and take my mouth away, press my face against her little head. Her hair is so soft; her scalp is so hot and fragrant. Like she's a potion, simmering with flowers and herbs. I drink it in, the heat, the perfume.

"Ah, you feel so hot. Bitch-chan, are you enjoying this?"

Hah! Trick question. I know she's not. Or… not yet. A part of her, the deep-buried core of the _real_ Bitch-chan, is revelling in everything I've done and might do next; but it's still below the level of her consciousness. I never met such a creature for denial. 

She trembles and whimpers in my arms, her thoughts now a wordless blur. She feels so good in my arms like this. And me, I feel tremendous. The agonising knot of fury in my chest is starting to unknit, greased and melting in the bliss of Bitch-chan's fear, her agony-sweetened blood. Oh, this is all so delicious. I murmur into her hair: "The pleasure will come as the pain fades away… Bitch-chan, how are you so _talented_?"

* * *

_"How **is** she so talented, Papa? Did you know what kind of a prize you were sending us? Sending me? I mean, most girls can be induced to be a little masochistic, with the right persuasion, but your daughter… well. She's something special. The way she responds to pain, Father dear. It's like nothing I've ever experienced."_

_"You're depraved."_

_"Entirely. And I fully intend to pull your daughter down into the same depths."_

_"I won't listen to this!"_

_"Oh, you'll listen. Unless you want me to do something even worse."_

_"The Church --"_

_"Will do absolutely nothing, Father. They've given her up, and if you try to interfere they'll give you up, too. **I've** got your daughter now, Papa Komori. And unless you want her murdered by inches, you'll do whatever I tell you. So listen. Up."_

_Father Komori listens, his gorge rising._

* * *

  


There's a faint "Oh…" from the girl; barely more than a breath. She can hardly speak. Her voice is faint and weak from screaming; from the pain. 

I'm hard.

I kiss her head. "Tell me, can you feel me pressed against you? Can you feel my presence even more than you normally do?"

By the way she freezes up and then starts to struggle, she can definitely feel my  presence. "Struggle" is hardly the word for it, though. She's fought me with much more conviction in the past. It's almost as if she doesn't really want to get away.

Or as if she's suffering from severe pain and major blood-loss.

You know.

One or the other.

"Eh-enough…" she whimpers. "Let go… ahh…"

I laugh. "No," I tell her sweetly. Seems like she still doesn't quite get it. This time, it'll take more than a few token protests to get me to stop.

"When that man came for you, he was going to ruin _everything_ ," I tell her. "You should _fear_ his attempts to find the bride. He tried to take you away from me. He’ll be back, and he'll try to take you away again." The knot in my chest is re-forming. My mind seethes; memories, visions; I see that man with Cordelia, that man with the other brides he's killed… that man with Bitch-chan.

With Yui.

I can't…

I hold her more tightly. "What does he want to do to us? Why does he keep doing this to us? Why does the Awakening of the bride mean anything to him at all?"

I don't realise I've spoken aloud until Bitch-chan says "You’re still talking in riddles!"

This brings me back to myself. I laugh a little; talented Bitch chan. "Am I?" I say, and give her a tighter squeeze. She gives another squeal as I begin to fondle her again, grounding myself in the feel of her flesh. "Maybe. But only for the moment. You and I aren’t here to _talk_."

It's fine. It's fine. He doesn't have her. I have her. She's here in my arms. Mine.   
  
"There are so many little things that man wants to _do_ to you – I can’t _stand_ it. So you must receive me... in full." I stroke her from shoulder to hip, front and back. "forget about him. Ignore him. I’m the only one who can make you complete… right?"

She feels so good; so right. I can smell her rising pleasure as I caress her. It must be me who she wants -- me, _my_ hands, _my_ lips, _my_ cock. Not any of the others. Not him.  
  
This time I reach into her, pressing my fingertip lightly between the lips of her pussy. To my joy, she's wet -- wetter than I expected. Her cute little opening feels warm and puffy under my fingers, swelling with arousal. I rub my fingertip softly over her pearl, finding it pleasingly firm under my touch. I knew she was mine. I knew it. She's warm and wet for _me_ , not for him.

"Oh, you can still hear the sound of my voice? You’re trembling so much…my poor little lamb…" I dip two fingers inside her now, parting her a little more. She gives another gasp, leaning back against me and pushing her hips out just a little so she's pressing against my hand. I laugh. "That’s it," I tell her. "This should be enough… It’s time."

I step back and slip out of my own clothes, then pull her to me again; one arm across her chest, my free hand palming myself, stroking myself to full hardness. "I’m ready now, too. We’ll do wonderful things together… okay?" I reassure her.

She whimpers another protest. "Let… me… go…"

I laugh at the perfunctoriness of her protest. The air is absolutely thick with her arousal now; she's just confused. I wonder if she even knows what she's feeling. She needs me. I know she does.

After this, she’ll never think about _that man_ again.

"And now," I tell her, "we begin."


	6. Fatherly Advice (pt 6)

_There was little hope left in Father Komori’s heart, but when the phone rang yet again, he picked it up anyway. He felt compelled to follow this game, this sordid ritual, through to the bitter end. He owed Yui that much._  
  
_Tonight, the monster didn’t even bother with a greeting. He simply launched into his evil prattle without preamble._

_"Tell me something, Father dear._ Advise _me. I know you must have had girls, once upon a time. Which would you say was more enjoyable -- a virgin or a more experienced lass?" **  
** _

__

_The priest did not respond. He'd run out of insults. This damnable creature only revelled in them anyway, tittering in lubricious glee at every imprecation._

_"No opinion, Father? Are you priests made of rock from the waist down, or is it simply that your tastes run in_ another direction? _Got your eye on those cute young seminarians, hmm? Hah! Just my little joke, Papa. If you were into boys, I'd know about it. I know everything about you. Well, anyway, let me give you my take on the matter."_

__

_The monster's voice grew eager, soft and distastefully intimate._

_"I know some fellows -- Ayato, for example -- prefer a fresh young creature, untouched and pristine. Something they can leave their mark on. Me, on the other hand… I rather like girls who've known something of the world. Women who've formed attachments -- girlfriends, wives… Did you know about That Man's third wife, little Subaru's mad mother?"_

_"Christa? Yes. She's in his file."_

_"Yes, poor dear Christa. The pride of her clan, the legendary White Rose. Plucked and ruined by that sick sonofabitch; ripped out of the world and locked away with her insanity for company. To the best of my knowledge he never actually forced her physically; no, nothing so coarse for the great Karlheinz. He only twisted her mind so she'd become his bride, bear his spawn, no matter how much she hated herself for doing it… Anyway. I tried to seduce her once. Well, of course I did: even in her current state, she's exquisite. I could have had her, too, but she would keep_ babbling _so."_

__

_Laito sounded oddly melancholy._

_"First she wittered on about how much she loved her brother -- well, strictly speaking they were first cousins rather than siblings, but she'd called him 'brother' all her life before they married. Then she went on about how much she loved Karlheinz-sama, her husband; and then she blathered endearments to me, thinking I was_ that man _... and then she started clawing at her face and screaming that she was filthy. And then she just lay on the floor and babbled gibberish. It was so dismal. Eventually I went home and fucked my maid instead. But she was that man's favourite, you see, so I felt I had to try. Besides, Subaru had knocked me downstairs the night before and I wanted to get back at him, too. Pity she was in such a state."_

__

_A crooning, lascivious sigh, forced and artificial. The creature only needed breath to speak -- sighing was pure affectation._

_"There's nothing quite so delicious as breaching such a woman's fidelity, stealing away her chastity. Taking something so precious from another man. I don't get quite the same thrill from little Yui, sadly. Although I am stealing her away from someone, in a sense. I've stolen her from that God of yours. And I've stolen her from_ you." 

_The priest swallowed dryly. He wanted nothing more than to put down the phone -- no, hurl it down, smash it into a thousand pieces. But this creature -- who knew what he might do if Seiji disobeyed? So he sat, and listened, and allowed his world to be shattered instead._

_"She was so clean, Father. So_ pure. _She really had been saving herself, you know. She could have been the pretty virgin bride of some decent, hardworking dullard. Spent her life fucking with the lights out, squatting out kids who looked exactly like Daddy, and gone to her grave a stolid old matron without a blemish to her name. She could even have become a nun. Yes, she'd probably have been quite happy living out her days in a convent. Your little Yui, taking holy orders. A bride of Christ!  Imagine it, Father. Think how blissfully happy she could have been. But instead… you gave her to me."_

__

_That laugh again, that sickeningly affected titter._

_"She isn't pure anymore, Father."_

* * *

I let her slip down onto the bed, her limbs too weak to hold her. "Laito… please…"

Poor thing. Poor lamb. She doesn't even know what she's begging for.

She's lying across the bed, legs still halfway off. I lift her and lay her down properly, then get on the bed with her.

It's the first time we've been naked together like this. I've always kept my clothes on -- well, apart from some strategic unzippering -- and I rather like seeing her partially clad as well. There's something about a girl with her clothes in disarray… but for this, for tonight, I want us bare. I don't want any barriers; nothing she can hide behind. No way to tell herself it didn't happen, or didn't count: she has to know that she's been all the way and there's no going back. Not ever.

I kiss her; she doesn't really respond, either to pull away or to kiss me back. I kiss her more deeply, petting her, caressing her. She moans into my mouth. It's such a faint sound that I can't tell whether it's pleasure or pain, invitation or refusal. 

I pull away and straddle my Bitch-chan, looking down at her. I'm ready -- so ready I could burst -- but still, I want to tease out the moment. Relish it. 

Her eyes are closed. She's not crying anymore, but the lashes are dewy with tears. She's still trembling, her breath shaky. I can smell her -- smell her flesh, smell the pain-sweat from the torture earlier, smell the juices between her legs and the adrenaline seething in her blood. Her legs are already parted a little and I nudge them apart some more, my knee between her thighs, then both knees. She is completely open to me now.

"Laito… kun..?" 

She whimpers my name in a questioning tone. She hardly knows what's going on; between pain, arousal, fear, and the blood I've taken, it's not really surprising. Her eyes open part-way, misty and dazed. 

I'm one push away from claiming her utterly, making her mine, mine forever.

I prop myself on one elbow and with my free hand I stroke her face, tracing her pale cheeks and parted lips with my fingertip. My touch seems to bring a little colour to them; she's blushing faintly, although she still looks whiter than she used to.

_White._

_White rose._

Another pale girl's face rises unbidden to my memory.

I can manage Bitch-chan, of course. Mad or sane, even when she becomes one of us -- I'll always be stronger.

But I think of Christa's once-lovely face, twisted in hate for herself and him; I think of nails digging into skin; those screams; that horrid babbling. And I think of Bitch-chan's face, on the days I've decided to have her smile for me. What a good toy she is, what a sweet plaything. If I break her like the White Rose, would she ever smile the same way?

Bitch-chan is stirring underneath me, comprehension starting to dawn on her face. Her eyes open a little wider, her tiny hands come up to my chest as if she imagines she could push me away. Her legs fidget, trying to close against me.  


"Laito-kun… what are you... stop..."

I grin down at her and use my knees to push her legs open wider, letting her feel me pressed against her precious little body. With my fingers, I dip and fondle. She still feels a little tense and tight, but she's so wet. She needs this. I need this. I need her NOW. She can't stop me; nobody can stop me; she's mine, mine to take; I can make her let me --

_Christa thought I was him. She thought I was **that man.**_

She's resisting more actively now, fidgeting underneath me. After everything else we've done, she's still going to make an issue over this one act? Unbelievable. Anyway, it's too late. I have to… I need… I need…

"S-stop…"

I have to. But…

_That man. The withered white rose._

Christa isn't his any more. Christa will never be his again. She belongs to her madness now; she's lost to him forever.

Bitch-chan has to be mine. If I do that -- if I crush her like the White Rose was crushed… 

No. She has to come down with _me_ , into _my_ hell.   


"Laito-kun…"

I stop doing what I’m doing. I press my forehead against hers, twine my fingers with hers. I lock eyes with her. What to say, what to say… I'm beyond words. But I know I need something from her, something for her. 

"Bitch-chan," I say, my teeth clenching. "Bitch-chan... _please._ "

I almost spit the word out. 

"Please, Bitch-chan. I need you. I _need_ you."

Can she even hear my voice?

Her breath catches. The weak, frantic wriggling stops; her knees stop shoving at my legs. Then she closes her eyes. Her forehead rubs against mine in the smallest nod. 

"Bitch-chan… you're ready… it's okay…" I tell her. "Say yes, my lamb. I won't do it until you do. Please. Tell me yes."

Her fingers curl through mine, clasping my hands. Her voice is so faint, but to my ears it's clear as a bell. "Y… yes…"

"Tell me you want me. Tell me you want your Laito-kun."

"I want… I want…"

She doesn't know what she wants, poor dear. But that's all right -- _I_ know. I use my hands on her again, gently rubbing her bud, her nipples, the soft curve of her ass. I think about bringing her off with my fingers -- orgasm makes deflowering easier on the girl -- but I want her to climax with me inside her. Besides, a little pain will stimulate her. She's a true masochist. 

I start to press into her. She winces a little, but she doesn't resist. 

"I love you. I love you, Bitch-chan. I love you…"

Slow. Slow. Oh, it's torture. Delicious torture. She's hot and tight and _perfect_. I tell her so, although I'm not sure she can even hear me. 

My lamb. My bride.

_Mine_.

I go very easy on her, letting her get used to the feeling so that the pleasure can eclipse any pain. She's so sensitive, so responsive, so _mine_ , it's only moments before she's clinging and crying out and squeezing, just _milking_ me. The feeling is incredible, tipping me over the edge so that we cum together. It's so painfully, painfully sweet that I'm hard again almost straight away, finding her purse even wetter and more welcoming now. Her mind seems to have melted away with that first climax; because after that, she lets me do _everything._

She even screams my name.

* * *

_"People always assume that the first time has to hurt." Laito's voice wass thoughtful, almost meditative. "They assume there's going to be pain, bleeding. Torn maidenheads and sobs. But that's a total crock, you know. I've found that a lot really depends on the man. Some crass little mortal with more lust than finesse, a girl who's too nervous and hasn't been properly warmed up -- well, yes, it'll hurt. If you're skillful, though, it doesn't have to hurt a bit. It can be pure pleasure, Father. First time, every time. Of course, I am very…_ very _… skillful. I learned from the best. I never hurt any of my girls_ accidentally. _" He cackled. "I like_ my _first time with a girl to be lots of fun. Whether she's done it before or not. Nice and slow and smooth. Making sure she finishes, that's important -- but it's almost more important to bring her down gently afterwards, with plenty of cuddles and kisses. After that, I generally find I can do what I want with her. Most girls end up letting me defile them in the most_ atrocious _ways, just to get another taste of that first time."_

_Another gale of laughter, suddenly cut off. "It gets boring eventually," the monster continued, his voice darkly sober. "They get whiny and desperate and annoying, and have to be... Cut. Loose."_

_"What have you… you haven't…"_

_"What, Bitch-chan? Come now, Father, don't be so morbid. I've barely got started with her. Did you really think she'd met her death already? No, no. Just lots… and lots… of_ little _ones…"_

_Laito dissolved into laughter at his own bad joke._

_Silently, the priest listened to him laugh. Father Komori had no tears left._  



End file.
